


this song will be endless

by chatsdelune (greymooses)



Series: 30 days of svt [11]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Dates, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, apparently set somewhere in the us, mingyu is there for half a second, soonhan if you squint, who doesn't love a good "found a number texted a stranger" trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greymooses/pseuds/chatsdelune
Summary: to: unknownhey, i found your number on a dollar bill that was left in my tip jar this morning.do you just write your number on all your currency before you put it out into the world?from: unknownwhatseungkwan stares at his phone, because what was unclear, and the person can't even use punctuation?
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Chwe Hansol | Vernon & Lee Chan | Dino
Series: 30 days of svt [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949296
Comments: 25
Kudos: 269





	this song will be endless

**Author's Note:**

> listen to seungkwan's [love poem cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmX5Oyag2UE).
> 
> refs: vernon ([one](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bf/cb/70/bfcb700392d8efb53806cc8b22398bda.jpg), [two](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d3/8f/20/d38f20c1ab1d093cecc46a70bf540188.jpg)); seungkwan ([one](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/eb/24/43/eb2443274bf280087fb7b90de86075f6.jpg), [two](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6f/91/d9/6f91d910471e74be4b7bb9c17a137daf.jpg)); [chan](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5e/8e/d9/5e8ed920fa6d4bd4af00e82022a9d4e6.jpg); [jeonghan](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/eb/9b/65/eb9b65299f3b2818022711f5f4195d64.jpg)
> 
> forgot the prompt: Found your phone number written on a dollar and called it for fun

hansol regrets everything about signing up for an eight am class. it's an ungodly hour and no one should be expected to be awake, let alone outside and exhibiting the brain function required for learning.

chan loves it. he dresses well, with immaculately styled hair. meanwhile, hansol is lucky if he can find a hoodie to throw on with the sweatpants he slept in. normally, that's fine. he'll slog his way through the semester and make better choices next time. but this morning, chan has dragged him into a new coffee shop, and when he looks away from the menu and pulls an earbud out so he can order, he blanks. all thought, gone.

chan elbows him. the barista never stops smiling. his cheeks are so round he probably still gets pinched by old ladies, but they're kind of cute anyway. they suit his face.

bottom line, he's about ninety percent sure he died in his sleep and is at the gates of heaven.

the barista's smile falters a bit, and chan elbows him again.

"americano," hansol mumbles.

"iced or hot?" the barista chirps. seungkwan. his name tag says seungkwan, in the nicest handwriting he's ever seen.

"iced," chan says for him, because he's useless.

chan pays for them, and seungkwan turns away to make their drinks.

hansol almost feels like he can breathe again.

"what's wrong with you?" chan whispers in his ear. loudly.

hansol brushes it off with, "tired," because it's easier than "dumbstruck and can we please come here all the time."

"uh huh," chan says. he doesn't sound convinced. "pay me back later."

☕☕☕

chan knows things.

nothing in particular, but _things,_ like hansol is incredibly cranky and hasn't been on a date in months. he figures the two are connected. he felt much less cranky after both of the handjobs he's given in his life, so surely this a general law of the universe that simply hasn't been proven yet.

if a equals b, and b equals c, a equals c, right?

same thing.

see, he has a very good reason for writing hansol's number on a dollar bill and stuffing it in the barista's tip jar. namely that he hasn't seen a dump truck like that since he looked in the mirror this morning.

hansol was so busy blatantly checking the guy out that he didn't even catch him this time.

chan: 1  
hansol's dry spell: 0

at least he hopes.

☕☕☕

seungkwan is used to dealing with spacey customers — he works in a coffee shop where people come in before they've had any caffeine. what he's _not_ used to is them being so gorgeous. earbud-wearing-iced-americano looked like he had just rolled out of bed — literally who can pull off hair that messy? — and he was _still_ attractive. how is that fair?

anyway, he spends his entire shift thinking about him and wondering if he'll come back. he's lucky he can multitask, because the older women that like to flirt with him — and give him sizable tips for flirting back — don't take days off.

case in point: the woman he's handing a soy latte who could probably be his mother, decked out in expensive jewelry and a coat seungkwan knows cost more than he'll get paid this week, who says, "your girlfriend is a lucky woman, seungkwannie," while she puts a five-dollar bill in his tip jar.

and, well, she would be if seungkwan wasn't gay. or had a partner at all.

"oh, i think your husband is luckier," he says sweetly.

she laughs and touches his forearm. "no need to flatter me, dear. i'll see you tomorrow."

he plasters a smile on his face and says, "have an excellent day."

should he feel guilty? maybe, but his apartment doesn't pay for itself.

jeonghan comes in to take over for him after he's made himself a drink to bring home, while he's cleaning up around the espresso machine. he stops in front of the register and peers into seungkwan's tip jar.

"how do you do this? i look like _this,_ " he says, gesturing at his face, "and you still rake in more than me."

jeonghan is objectively hot and everything, but he looks like the gremlin that he is, in seungkwan's opinion. the women that react positively to him aren't over forty with free reign over their successful husbands' wallets.

"first of all, unnecessarily hurtful," he snaps, snatching the tip jar away. "second, it's not my fault that bored housewives like me more than you. tell soonyoung to step up his tip game."

jeonghan pushes his things under the counter. "he makes up for it in other ways."

"that's exactly what i wanted to hear today, thanks," seungkwan says sarcastically as he dumps his tips into his apron.

"you said tip game. it could've been worse."

seungkwan mock gags as he bends down to get his bag. "always a pleasure. see you tomorrow."

jeonghan smiles and waves as he walks out the door.

seungkwan waits until he passes the windows to shake his head and laugh. if nothing else, jeonghan brings him back down to earth after six hours of older women inflating his ego. he values his presence, truly.

his apartment is only a block away. he drops his bag when he gets inside and empties his apron on the table to sort everything. he's made it about halfway through the pile when he sees a phone number written on the back of a bill. he stares at it for a few seconds, then puts it in a pile and keeps sorting.

he gets more anxious every time he puts another dollar on top of it.

writing your number on currency that will stay in circulation for god only knows how long is insane, but _when_ was it written? was it today? what if it was earbud-wearing-iced-americano?

god, _he's_ insane, thinking that's even remotely possible. his friend put the money in the jar anyway. he was pretty and everything, but not exactly seungkwan's type.

he fishes the bill out of the pile and stares at it again before deciding he has to know. if it wasn't one of them, he can just block the number and pretend it never happened.

> to: unknown  
>  hey, i found your number on a dollar bill that was left in my tip jar this morning.  
>  do you just write your number on all your currency before you put it out into the world?
> 
> from: unknown  
>  what

seungkwan stares at his phone, because what was unclear, and the person can't even use punctuation?

> to: unknown  
>  it's a yes or no question.
> 
> from: unknown  
>  no, but coffee shop?
> 
> to: unknown  
>  yeah.
> 
> from: unknown  
>  fucking chan  
>  i'm sorry. my friend did it. i usually catch him trying but i was tired.

seungkwan can practically hear his heart beating in his ears, because he can't think of anyone else that came in with a friend today who actually left a tip, only earbud-wearing-iced-americano.

> to: unknown  
>  oh.
> 
> from: unknown  
>  this is weird but do you want to get dinner tonight?

seungkwan almost chokes. on his iced americano.

> to: unknown  
>  is this a prank?  
>  did jeonghan put you up to this?

seungkwan will _strangle_ him.

> from: unknown  
>  who?

maybe he can live for another day.

> to: unknown  
>  i'll tell you later.  
>  unless you're not the guy with the earbuds who looked like he just rolled out of bed with the guy in the green.  
>  in which case i'm blocking your number and will file a restraining order if you try to harass me again.

he hopes he doesn't have to find a new job. that would suck.

> from: unknown  
>  i assure you i wasn't in bed with the guy in green.
> 
> to: unknown  
>  a comedian.
> 
> from: unknown  
>  a psych student, actually. hansol.  
>  meet at the coffee shop at 7? wouldn't want you to give your address to a random number you found on a dollar.
> 
> to: hansol  
>  coffee shop at 7.
> 
> from: hansol  
>  okay.

okay, he thinks, and sits staring at his phone for a minute before he realizes: holy shit, he has a date.

in _three hours._

he calls mingyu, because this qualifies as an emergency.

"heyyyyy seungkwannie."

seungkwan rolls his eyes. "i need your help. i have a date in three hours."

he hears something fall and maybe a body part hitting a piece of furniture, followed by a "shit" under mingyu's breath. "i'm leaving now."

☕☕☕

seungkwan leaves his apartment in a hoodie and hat, with a fancier shirt underneath, because he has no idea where they're going. he never would've thought of it himself, so thank god for mingyu.

hansol — who is indeed earbud-wearing-iced-americano — is waiting for him in a plaid button-down and black beanie, so he figures the hoodie and snapback was a good call. he has to remember to thank his friend.

his date practically beams at him when he walks up, and that's new, and he has the prettiest smile and seungkwan isn't sure how he's going to survive the night if he does much more of it.

"i have other options just in case, but how do you feel about chicken?"

seungkwan is so busy staring at his jawline that he almost forgets to answer. "chicken works."

hansol points down the street. "there's a place a couple of blocks away."

seungkwan is pretty sure he knows where he's talking about, so grabs his wrist and starts walking. hansol doesn't pull away, so he slips his hand down and promises god he'll drink one less cup of coffee a day if he reacts positively. he only regrets it a little when he feels fingers wrap tentatively around his own.

☕☕☕

dates aren't usually seungkwan's favorite activity, especially first dates. people are weird and never quite themselves in an attempt to get him to go home with them. it bugs him. people would waste so much less time if they were just upfront about things.

hansol, though, is unapologetically himself.

he was born in new york. his parents are artists. he has a younger sister. chan is his best friend and roommate and a royal pain in the ass. he broke his arm when he was twelve. he's allergic to peanuts. he has an eight am class this semester that he loathes waking up for — he really had just rolled out of bed that morning and grabbed the nearest thing he could find to put on. he loves hip hop. he has a cat. his last relationship was in high school, and they broke up because they were going to school on opposite sides of the country. it took him a year to get over it. he doesn't do casual.

basically, he's incredible, unlike anyone who's asked him out before. he's very interested in seungkwan's life and his kinesiology major and his family and the fact that he was born in korea. they sit for ages after they finish eating and the waitress has to tell them to leave because they're closing. he never acts like seungkwan going home with him — or even seeing him again — is a given. he doesn't make any gross innuendos.

he takes seungkwan's hand when they exit and insists on walking him home. he doesn't even entwine their fingers, just wraps his own around the outside of seungkwan's palm, like they're kids on a field trip and the teacher's making them use a buddy system, but not at all like that because he rubs his thumb back and forth over seungkwan's the whole way. it reminds him of dragging his socks across the carpet with his sisters until someone generated enough static electricity to give someone else a shock.

in seungkwan's opinion, he has no choice but to invite him inside to warm up before he goes back home, even though it's not that cold outside. and when hansol steps inside the apartment and turns his attention to his own shoes when seungkwan pulls his hat off, he has no choice but to ask, "is everything okay?"

"trying to figure out how to explain this night to chan without him deciding he's the greatest wingman who's ever lived, because i'll never hear the end of it."

and— _oh._ that sounds like a good thing? he takes a step closer. "i think he probably has room for improvement."

hansol looks up and locks eyes with him. "any notes you'd like me to give him?"

seungkwan could probably get lost in the stupid things if he's not careful. he takes another step. "mm. find another friend to help?"

hansol nods. "i'll give him your feedback," he replies seriously, but he breaks and smiles like he's amused and _stands there,_ still staring at him like it's not almost midnight and he has all the time in the world.

and it's not that seungkwan doesn't know what's going on — he's seen too many romantic comedies to be that clueless — but it's still confusing because hansol looks like _that_ and people that look like _that_ aren't usually interested in him. "how the hell do you look good in a beanie?" he blurts.

hansol laughs at him, says, "i don't know," but he finally shuffles his feet forward a tiny bit, and that's apparently the sign seungkwan's brain needed to grab the back of his neck in both hands and kiss him.

and look, seungkwan does _not_ sleep with people on first dates, and he knows hansol doesn't want that anyway, but seungkwan can't swear that he wouldn't go through with it if he did, because hansol slips his hands under his hoodie and pulls him closer and it feels a lot like that time he got stuck in a haunted house. like, he can't decide if he wants to fight this guy or run away or just stay forever because it's actually kind of safe and home-like once he gets over the scary bits.

also, he's a really good kisser. seungkwan isn't sure when his own back ended up against his door or why he has hansol's hat in his hand, but whatever.

time is a social construct anyway.

unfortunately, the social construct requires he open the shop in the morning, so he has to drag his hands to hansol's shoulders and signal him to stop, which might be the worst thing he's ever had to do in his twenty-something years on this planet.

university applications might've been worse. barely.

hansol actually pouts. god.

"i have to be up early, but this was… really nice," seungkwan tells him.

understatement of the year.

he frowns — adorable — and says, "you should've told me earlier."

seungkwan shakes his head. "it's okay, but it won't be if we keep doing this. i'd like to, though."

hansol leans in, very pointedly aiming for his cheek, and kisses it. "good night, seungkwan. you have my number."

he's in such a weird daze that hansol is gone before he realizes he still has the beanie in his hand. he leans his back against his door again and laughs under his breath.

he just might frame that damn dollar.

**Author's Note:**

> stared at this box for a while and couldn't come up with anything to say. haven't abandoned this whole series concept, but having a very hard time caring rn, so. kudos/comments appreciated, as is the case with like. every author ever. <3


End file.
